


Ice Hotel

by tprillahfiction



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Explicit Fluff, Holiday, Holidays, Humor, Ice, Ice Hotel, K/S Advent 2015, K/S Advent Calendar, K/S Advent Calendar 2015, Lighthearted, Long Term Relationship, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Married Sex, Mild Angst, Shower Sex, Snow and Ice, Winter, explicit - Freeform, shoreleave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:13:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5341994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tprillahfiction/pseuds/tprillahfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim convinces a reluctant Spock to spend a few nights at the Jukkasjaroi Ice Hotel in Sweden for shoreleave.  </p><p>Written for K/S Advent 2015</p><p>(with accompanying artwork)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice Hotel

**Author's Note:**

> The Jukkasjarvi Ice Hotel is a real hotel in Sweden. I made up some of the factoids about the place for humor/dramatic reasons, other things are true.
> 
> The illustration for this fic is at the end.

“Look at this, Bones.” Jim held out a dataPADD.

Bones set down his glass of brandy on the desk. He craned his neck over to look at the brochure on the screen and squinted. “What's that?”

Jim grabbed the PADD away from him and grinned. “That, my friend, is an ice hotel.”

“A what?”

“An ice hotel. The hotel is made entirely of ice.”

Bones picked up his drink, took a long sip. “Where in the hell is that?”

Jim took a drink of his own brandy. “Well, since we’re going to be orbiting Earth for the next week for shoreleave, I thought I’d book me and Spock a room for a few days at none other than the Jukkasjaroi Ice Hotel in Sweden!”

Bones gaped at him for a long moment. “You and Spock...at an ice hotel?" He tilted his head. "Jim, are you insane?”

“What do you mean, Bones?”

“Spock isn’t gonna go for that. He likes warmth. He’s a Vulcan for crying out loud. He’s like a cat. Cats prefer heat. He’ll freeze his ass off. Do you know what happens when you get a cold, shivering Vulcan?”

“What happens, Bones?”

“You get yourself a grouch.”

Jim smirked at that. “Worse than you? Now that's saying something." Bones scowled. "I thought if I had a cold, shivering Vulcan on my hands, I’d just have to...you know... warm him up.” Jim waggled his eyebrows.

Bones rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Anyway, Spock will never go for that, so forget it. There’s plenty of other romantic hotels in much, much warmer locations. How about Florida?”

Jim wrinkled up his nose. “Nah. I got stung by a jellyfish that last time.”

“Oh yeah, I remember. What about Las Vegas?”

Jim shook his head. “It’s freezing there during December.”

“Dubai?”

“Hmmm. No.”

“They have indoor skiing in Dubai, I wouldn’t mind going there again.”

“Then do so, Bones. Knock yourself out." Jim held out his arms in a dramatic fashion. "In the meantime, I’m taking Spock to the Jukkasjarvi Ice Hotel and that's final.”

Bones took another sip of his brandy. “I’m telling ya, Jim, he ain’t gonna go for it.”

“Yes, he will. I’ll just make sure he’s wrapped up nice and warm.”

“You’d better! I’m not dealing with an ill, frostbitten Vulcan when you get back. Hey, uh...Jim. Does the Jukkasjarvi Ice Hotel have a bar?”

“Oh, I don't know, I'm sure it does. It doesn't say on the brochure."

“Can I come?”

“No!”

*

“Absolutely not,” Spock informed him.

“Oh, come on!” Jim whined. “It will be fun.”

“Spending three days and two nights in an ice hotel in Sweden, Earth is not my idea of fun. Out of the question.” Spock went back and forth tidying up their quarters, picking up various objects and placing them in their correct spots. “Jim, you left your bath towel on the deck yet again.”

“Sorry. I was in a hurry. I had an urgent summons from the bridge this morning. Come on, Spock!” Jim kept up his pleading as he followed the Vulcan around. “It’ll be a change of scenery for the both of us. We need this!”

Spock stopped in his tracks. Jim nearly ran into him. “What is the precise temperature inside the hotel?” the Vulcan asked.

“I don’t know, exactly. It’s, uh...it’s cold. Pretty goddamned... Well, look at it this way, you’d uh...have to wear a sweater and a coat and several layers of clothing and maybe a pair of long underwear and--”

Spock shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. I refuse.” The Vulcan headed towards their bathroom.

“Fine!” Jim called after him, then finally followed Spock. “Fine. That’s fine. It’s alright. It’s just that we have a week on Earth for shoreleave, a rarity, I might add. I thought maybe we’d spend some romantic time together away from our duties. Relax and unwind, enjoy each other in an interesting locale. You know. Spend time together as husbands and lovers instead of always being the captain and first officer.”

“We are off duty and spending time as husbands right now.”

“This doesn’t count, Spock!”

“Really?” Spock raised an eyebrow and walked away.

“I meant, we could be called away to resume our duties anytime we’re aboard ship, Spock!” Jim yelled back at him. “We’re always on duty, you and I! That’s the way it is for a captain and first officer. We’re never truly off duty while aboard ship, Spock! We never get to fully relax unless we’re on leave! Come on.”

“Why not stay someplace else?”

“Because...I thought the ice hotel would be kinda neat. You want me to beg, Spock? I’ll beg. Come on....Spock! Please?”

“No. Please do not beg. I am quite resolute.”

“Spooooock.”

“No.”

“Sp--”

“No.”

Jim folded his arms. “You’re a wet blanket, you know that?”

Spock raised an eyebrow. "A...what?"

“Bones is dying to come along!” Jim added.

“Excellent, then perhaps you and the doctor should go to the hotel together for shoreleave and leave me out of it.”

“That isn’t what you want. Really, Spock? You want me to have to go alone on this romantic excursion?”

“You would not be alone,” Spock explained. “You would be accompanied by the doctor.”

“That’s not what I meant. It's not the same. Come on, don't be ridiculous. I would have to sleep in the big massive ice bed alone!”

“Ice bed?” Spock asked, his expression positively aghast. “The hotel beds are made of ice?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Jim replied. “Neat huh?”

Spock exhaled. “Who would willingly sleep on an ice bed?”

“Humans would, I guess.”

Spock sighed. "Illogical."

*

“Here, Spock." In transporter room A, the doctor plopped a heavy knitted green ear flap hat on Spock’s head. “You can borrow it for the duration. You look very Nordic with this on. Matches that parka. Nobody at the hotel will even realize you’re a pointy eared hobgoblin.”

“Thank you,” Spock said in a feeble voice, briefly closing his eyes.

“He doesn’t need that,” Jim told the doctor. "It's not gonna be _that_ cold."

“The hell he doesn’t! He ain’t freezin’ his ears off on my watch!”

“Where’d you pick up that knitted monstrosity, Bones?”

“Skiing. In Dubai.”

“It looks ridiculous, Bones.”

“It’s warm, though, isn’t it, Spock,” the doctor said.

Spock was about to voice either an agreement or launch a protest before the doors to the transporter room swooshed open. It was Scotty arriving with his luggage.

“It’s about goddamned time!” Bones grumbled. “Jesus H. Christ, we’re only staying two nights! Why’d you pack everything you own?”

Scotty shrugged. "Supplies."

“It’s your last chance to back out, Spock,” Bones whispered out of the side of his mouth. “You could put your foot down with your husband here. I’ll hide ya in my quarters.”

Jim put his arm around Spock. “He’ll be fine. Right, Spock?”

Spock looked at him with a very unhappy expression under the ear flap hat and shook his head in the negative.

“Ohhhh, don't be like that.” Jim patted the Vulcan’s shoulder.

*

As soon as they materialized in the lobby of the Jukkasjarvi Ice Hotel, the four stood there for a moment, taking in the scene. Absolutely stunned.

Jim glanced over at Spock, who was now sporting a glassy eyed expression on his face. He then looked over at Bones who voiced what Spock would never do, in public at least, and Jim was unwilling to say right now:

“Fuck me, it’s freezing,” Bones said, his breath visible. “Holy fuck. Holy mother of God!”

“Alright, Bones. That’s enough.”

“Oh my God,” Bones said, ignoring him. “The cold and ice, it takes your breath away! Holy Fuck, it's cold! Wooo!”

“Aye,” Scotty confirmed, his breath also visible. “It’s bloody cold.”

“Alright, Gentlemen,” Jim said. “Thank you.”

“Hey, Spock!” Bones said. “You alright?”

Spock blinked at the doctor. “No,” he breathed out-- and his breath was also visible to comical effect-- under his knitted earflap hat and huge parka.

Jim put his arm around the Vulcan. “He’ll get used to it.”

Spock looked at Jim. “I do not believe so.”

“You’ll be fine, in a few moments!” Jim said.

Bones dug into his dufflebag then pulled out and tied a heavy scarf around Spock’s neck. “Here. How’s that?”

“Stop fussing over him, Bones!” Jim snapped.

“I’m not dealing with a goddamned case of Vulcan frostbite, Jim!” Bones huffed back. “Wait a minute. His hands are bare. What the hell's the matter with you? Don’t you have any goddamned mittens for him? Dammit Jim, he’s got icicles hanging off his nose. Here, I have a pair of nice warm mittens, Spock. Take mine.” Bones dug into that dufflebag of his and pulled out a pair.

“He does not have icicles haning off his nose. I’ve got some mittens for him, Bones. He doesn't need yours, thank you!” Jim dug into his own dufflebag for a pair of mittens. He handed them over to Bones who grumbled and slid them on the dazed Vulcan. Jim found a pair of gloves and a hat for himself, donned it. He looked over at Scotty, who’d also put on some winter gear. Bones donned an 'Ol Miss' knitted hat, scarf and mittens. Damn, the cold did seep right into the body, he hadn't thought it would be this bad. You'd think the hotel would have installed some heating lamps or something. There didn't seem to be any. The other newly arrived hotel patrons were also dressed in full winter gear. Hats and coats and boots and all.

“How long have you had that stuff, Bones?”

“Since Med School. For watching football! It gets freezing in the stadium come January at the University of Mississippi. I’ll tell ya that.”

“Is this hotel really made entirely of ice?” Scotty asked in a glum voice. His nose and cheeks were rosy.

"Yes," Jim said. "It's an amazing feat of architecture. Maybe they have a tour! Wouldn't you like to take a tour, Spock?"

Spock did not answer him.

“This hotel is like a goddamned glorified igloo,” Bones complained.

“Hmph. You guys are a bunch of spoil sports.” Jim turned away from the others to survey the lobby. Wow. White solid blocks and more transparent blue sheets of ice. Multi colored lights. Ice sculptures. The lobby was stunningly beautiful even if it was cold. He hoped the deluxe 'cold suites' were just as nice. “Well Gentlemen, let’s find the check-in desk.”

“Uh...” Scotty said. “I’ll...uh... make a quick recce to see if there’s a hotel bar and fireplace in the vicinity.” The man took off.

“Hey, Scotty!” Jim called after him. What about your luggage?”

“I think uh...Scotty might require some help looking for that hotel bar. And of course, the roaring fireplace.” Bones stepped away.

“Yeah, yeah, get lost, Bones.” Jim waved him off. He glared down at the huge pile of their combined luggage. “Great, now we’re the ones stuck tipping the bellboy.”

Spock began to inch away too, probably because of the mention of that fireplace somewhere in the vicinity.

“No, my love, you’re staying with me.” Jim tightened his grip on the Vulcan’s parka clad arm.

“Duly noted,” Spock said, sporting the dazed expression of a captive prisoner.

*

“Each suite is a three-dimensional installation of original art,” the bellboy said, pointing out various sculptures in the living area and sounding like he was rattling it off of script. “Sixteen intricate, individually designed themes. The theme of your suite is ‘Wintry Love’.”

“Wintry love?” Jim said with a smirk. “Hey Spock--” He spun around. Spock was gone. Jim turned back to the bellboy. "Sounds, uh, nice."

“The deluxe suites have been decorated by handpicked artists from around the world,” the bellboy said.

“Oh, that’s nice. All made of ice?”

“Oh yes. Beautifully carved by hand,” the bellboy said. “Everything you see here is ice. The bed. Even the chairs.”

“Ah,” Jim replied. “So that’s why it’s so cold in here.”

“This is an ice hotel, Sir,” the bellboy replied.

“I know, but...brrrr! Can’t we raise the temp in here? Warm it up a little?”

The bellboy chuckled and shook his head. “Not unless you want a slushy mess, Sir. There is a shower and a small warmed changing booth in the bathroom. It is recommended that you sleep in full winter attire, however.”

“Yeah,” Jim agreed. So much for snuggling naked with Spock. He stopped to look at a painting on the ice wall. “That looks pretty. Oil paint?”

“It’s made of ice, Sir.”

“The painting?”

“Colored ice.”

“No kidding. Hey Spock?! Look at this painting! It’s made of ice!” There was no answer from the Vulcan.

“During your stay with us, we do hope you will patronize the hotel bar and fireplace--”

“Oh, that goes without saying,” Jim said.

“And the ice rink in the basement--”

“There’s an ice rink? Oh, that sounds like fun.”

“And the ice-sculpture museum, located about ten minutes walk from here. And the ski-slopes, about twenty minutes shuttle ride from the hotel. More exciting activities are located on this brochure.” The bellboy handed Jim a dataPADD. “The concierge can give you more information.”

“What’s the temperature outside?” Jim wondered.

“-10 degrees C. Not too bad. It's warmed up a little.”

“Uh, what is it in here?”

“0 degrees C. Pretty balmy!” The bellboy smiled.

“Uh, thank you, we probably won’t be going out much. If at all.”

“Ah, very good, Sir,” the bellboy replied.

“Well, uh, thank you,” Jim said motioning toward the door as a hint.

The bellboy didn’t go anywhere but cleared his throat and stood rooted in spot. Jim placed a credit chip into the man’s hand.

“Oh, thank you very much! Enjoy your stay, Sir!” the bellboy said, before exiting.

“That’s the thing I hate about going on vacation, everybody has their hand out for a damned tip,” Jim muttered as the door closed in the bellboy’s wake.

Wow. The suite was huge and ornate and stunningly beautiful. It was about three times the size of their quarters with a massive bathroom and a large private bedroom to boot. Simply amazing. It should be for 7,000 credits a night. “Hey Spock?” Jim called out again.

There was no answer. Jim walked over to the bedroom, looking through the doorway. “Spock? You in here?”

The Vulcan was standing over the huge, larger than king-sized bed. “It is true.”

“Yes.”

Spock turned to him, dismay covering his features. “I had hoped you had been exagerating. The bed is made of solid ice. I will not sleep on this bed.”

“Even the chairs are made of ice, Spock. It’s a cold suite. We can’t do anything about the temperature. Hey, Spock? Baby, what do you want me to do?” Jim reached out for Spock, attempting to touch him, but Spock pulled away. “It’s not like I can--”

Spock ignored him and flipped open his communicator. “Front desk, please.”

“What are you--?”

Spock waved at him to be quiet. “Yes, I would like a cot, not made of ice, but rather constructed of metal and fabric and several warm blankets and two pillows, sent up to the 'Wintry Love' suite, please.”

Jim was able to follow what the front desk attendant on the other line was saying just based on Spock’s subtle facial expressions. First it was confusion, then indignation, then outrage as the Vulcan listened to the spiel on the other end.

“There are no cots available?” Spock said. “I see. I would be willing to pay handsomely for the concierege to procure me one. I do not mind the signifigant cost involved.”

Jim pulled the communicator away from the Vulcan’s mittens. “Uh, Ma’am, sorry about that. We’ll make do without the cot, thank you. Goodbye.” He ended the call.

Spock’s eyes grew wide. “Jim.”

“I’m sorry, Baby. But look. It can’t be that bad. A lot of people stay at this hotel and they sleep in the ice beds, no problem!”

“I am not a lot of people, Jim. I am a Vulcan.”

“I’m sure some Vulcans have slept here, too.” Spock scoffed at that but said nothing. “Come on. You don’t want to sleep on a lonely little uncomfortable cot, away from me, do you? I thought we were--I mean...once we get all, you know, hot and bothered...you won’t even notice that the bed is made of ice.”

“I will notice.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll help you forget, I promise.”

“I will never forget.”

“Spock. Spoooock. Come on, Spock.” Jim put his gloved hands on Spock’s shoulders, leaning in for a kiss. Spock pushed him away. “Come on, Baby, don’t be like that.”

Spock walked out of bedroom, not quite storming out, that wasn’t his style, but it was apparent that Spock wished he could.

Jim followed him out to the living area and sighed. “I’m going to unpack our things.”

Spock shrugged.

Jim placed their clothing into a dresser carved from ice (God, that was gonna be interesting getting dressed in the morning) while Spock continued to stand there and sulk. “Want to go skiing, Spock?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hey...there’s an ice sculpture museum located about ten minutes walk from here.”

“No.”

Jim glanced at the dataPADD, swiped a couple of pages. “Some of this stuff looks interesting. Hey, how about you and I going and watching the northern lights tonight? The tours leave starting at 9pm local time.”

“I watched them from my scanner, on board the Enterprise.”

“That’s not the same thing, Spock. You have to experience it from Earth! Well, how about us going ice-skating? There’s a rink in the basement.”

“No.”

“There’s ice sculpture lessons, too! Wow, look at that. Does that sound interesting?”

“It does not.”

"Hey look! They have dog sledding! How about you and I go dog sledding one evening? You know, at midnight it's sunny out! How about that? Sound like fun?"

Spock did not answer.

Jim moved back in for a little tinsey wensie kiss but Spock avoided his contact. “Baby, couldn’t we at least attempt to try out the ice bed?” He tried to grab Spock's mitten. "Come here. Sit down."

“Negative.” The Vulcan stood his ground and pursed his lips in a defiant pose. There was no way Jim could move such a stubborn Vulcan.

“Well, how about we go down to the hotel fireplace? See what Bones and Scotty are up to? They’re probably both drunk already, but....” Jim shrugged.

Spock looked thoughtful for a moment. "The fireplace is warm.”

“Yes. It sure is.” At least he hoped so.

“That is acceptable.” Spock strode to front door, opening it and walking through.

“Well, good,” Jim said, following the Vulcan out of the suite, shutting the door behind him. “I’m glad something finally meets with your approval!”

*

They located Bones and Scotty amongst a crowd of people sequestered on a large circular couch which was wound around a huge wood burning fireplace. Both men were surprisingly very much sober. Jim and Spock squeezed in the middle of them and sat down. Jim could feel nice soothing warmth on his face. Ahhhh.

“Hello, Gentlemen,” Jim said. “Come here often?”

“Jim, this hotel sucks,” Bones whined. “I hate it. Everything about it. My suite is so damned cold. I’m freezing my ass off in this igloo.”

“You said that already. Scotty, how are you feeling?”

Scotty, nursing a drink in his gloves (it looked like he’d brought the booze from home), rolled his eyes. “Uh...I’ll be alright. I suppose. Soon as I uh...get a few of these in my system.”

“Yeah, well,” Jim said. “Bones, if you’re not enjoying yourself, you could, you know, beam back to the ship.”

“Not a chance in hell, Jim. Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on Spock.”

“Bones, couldn't you give him something for the cold? So he can deal with it a little better?"

"Pump him full of drugs, Jim?" Bones snapped. "Why so you can enjoy your leave while Spock suffers with a stomachache? Fuck, no. I can't 'give him something' to ward off the cold."

A waitress sauntered up, clad in a skimpy costume: Red fur skirt and bikini top trimmed with white ermine. A santa hat was perched atop her lovely blonde head. Bones’ eyes practically bugged out of his skull.

“Anything to drink, Gentlemen?” the waitress asked in a sultry voice.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Bones drawled out. “I’ll have a hot cocoa with some marshmellows. Jim? What’s your poison?”

Jim chewed on a gloved thumb. “Nothing, thanks.”

“Spock?”

“No, thank you, Doctor.”

“Scotty?”

Scotty held up his bottle.

Bones shrugged. “Well, that’s a cheap round. Alright. Suit yourself. That’s all, Darlin’. Thank you.” The waitress walked off. “Now, how in blazes is she able to wear next to nothin’ around here?”

“She’s used to the cold,” Jim replied. “Bones, hot cocoa, nothing else in it besides marshmallows? You feeling alright?”

Bones darted his eyes in the waitress’ direction. “Now that you mention it, I am feeling a little better.”

*

The fire was blazing. The four of ‘em hadn’t budged from the couch, nor removed any of their cold weather gear, like the other hotel patrons finally had. The waitress had brought Bones his third mug of hot cocoa.

“Sure you don’t want a drink, Jim?” Bones offered.

“No, thank you.”

Bones elbowed the parka clad Spock. “Want a sip of my hot cocoa?”

Spock hesitated a moment, then said: “I would.” Bones handed over the mug. Spock took a long sip and chewed on one of the marshmellows. He nodded before handing it back to the doctor. “Agreeable.”

“It’s good, isn’t it.” Bones handed the mug back to Spock. "Here, you could use another sip."

“Don’t get him drunk, Bones,” Jim hissed.

“I’m not. The cocoa might relax him, Jim,” Bones whispered back. “Stop treating him like a goddamned kid.”

“I’m not treating him like anything!” Jim hissed behind the Vulcan’s back.

Spock handed the mug back to the doctor. "Thank you."

“Want another sip of my cocoa, Spock? Or would you like your very own mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows on top? My treat.” Bones arched his eyebrow at Jim.

Jim huffed and turned away.

“Thank you, Doctor, I would like my own mug of cocoa and marshmallows.” Spock glared at Jim.

Bones grinned. “I’m switching over to brandy. Jim, what are you drinkin'?”

“Fine,” Jim said, arms folded. "Brandy. I suppose."

*

“I gotta take a piss,” Bones suddenly announced.

Jim shrugged. “Have fun. Don't freeze your genitals off. The toilets are made of ice.”

“I’m sure there's heat in the bathroom.” Bones scooted away.

After several minutes, Bones came rushing back, a huge ball of excitement. "Well, I wouldn't want to sit down on that toilet. I don't know what I'm gonna do come morning. Anyway, guess what, Jim! There’s a hot tub! Over there!”

“Are you kidding? Really? We didn’t bring any swim trunks. Did you?”

“I’ll buy a pair from the gift shop. Last one in the jacuzzi’s a rotten egg!” Bones rushed off. Scotty got up and followed him. In fact so did the other hotel patrons who’d overheard their conversation. There was a mini-stampede, leaving Spock and Jim the sole persons sitting in front of the fire.

Jim looked over at the Vulcan. “Well? What do you think? Would you like to sit in the jacuzzi?”

“No.”

“It’s warm in a hot tub, Spock. Hot, even.”

“I do not wish to do so, Jim.”

Jim grabbed and held onto Spock’s mitten with his own. “Alright, Baby. It’s alright, we’ll sit here in front of the fire a little while longer.” Jim snuggled close.

*

Jim and Spock had a quiet dinner together in the restaurant. It was freezing in here, too. Just like everywhere in this damned place. Jim scowled over his Swedish Meatballs. Spock had barely touched his vegetarian soup.

“Bones and Scotty still in the jacuzzi?” Jim wondered.

Spock shrugged.

"Maybe after dinner we could join them."

"Negative," Spock said.

They spent the rest of the meal in silence.

*

They walked out of the restaurant. Jim spotted Bones, still in that hot tub, sandwiched in between three beautiful women in tiny bikinis. Jim dragged Spock over to the jacuzzi's edge, then peered down at Bones. Steam was rising from the water. “Making friends?”

“Oh, hiya, Jim!” Bones blushed, bare chested, in swim trunks but wearing his knitted hat and holding some kind of expensive, blended specialty drink with a little ice snowman stuck into it instead of an umbrella. "Why don't you two come in? It's nice and hot!"

"No, thank you. You're gonna shrivel up like a prune, Bones."

"Ask me if i care."

“Where’s Scotty?”

“Don’t know and again, I don’t care right now,” Bones muttered and turned back to the stunning brunette in the silver bikini.

*

Jim waved his hand over the lock. It flashed red then green. He opened up the door to the suite. Spock followed him in like a cow headed to the slaughterhouse.

Jim went into the bathroom, took a piss in the ice-toilet, which worked very well. His urine caused steam to rise up from the ice-bowl. Bones was right. You sure didn’t want to have to sit on that thing. And poor Spock. He flushed the toilet. He took off his gloves, hurried up and brushed his teeth before putting his hands back into the knitted warmth.

He came out of the bathroom and found Spock already underneath the covers on the ice-bed. Still in his hat and parka and many layers of clothing. Hmmm. “You took your shoes off, at least?”

“Of course. I have layered on several pairs of thermal socks.”

“So you're going to sleep on the ice bed, after all?”

“There is nowhere else for me to sleep. Though I would much rather take slumber on the couch in front of the fireplace in the lobby.”

“You and me both. Well, this is our bed for the next two nights. We’ll just have to make the best of it.”

Jim climbed in bed next to Spock, got himself comfortable underneath the blankets and heavy duvet. The mattress was very comfortable even if it was cold. “There’s extra blankets and pillows here,” he noted.

“Front desk must have delivered them while we were downstairs.”

“Oh. Good. Ahhhh. Well. Nice, isn't it?"

Spock did not reply.

Jim grimaced and stared up at the ice sculpture on the ceiling: A flock of snow birds and red colored hearts, and blue tinted snowflakes. Hmm. Wintry Love. He wondered if he could salvage some of that. He snuggled in closer to Spock. After a few moments he removed his gloves, tossing them onto the rug on the floor. His hands began to roam Spock’s parka and snow trousers, looking for an access point.

“What are you doing?”

“Warming up my husband, what do you think I’m doing?” He found a zipper, worked it open, dove his hand in.

Spock let out a yelp and jumped as if he'd been pricked with a pin.

“What's the matter, Spock?”

“Your hands. They are cold. Please keep them to yourself.”

“Spooooock,” Jim whined. He sighed. He leaned over, fetched his pair of gloves, shoved them back on. He debated whether or not to try again, maybe give Spock a hand job with his gloves on. Maybe masturbate with gloves on. He nixed both ideas. They lay, marooned together on the massive bed.

“I wonder what Bones is up to now,” Jim mused.

*

“Mmmm,” Bones said, in between his bacon and eggs. The doctor was no longer wearing his gloves, hat or scarf. “I’m starving.”

Jim picked at his own breakfast, still wearing his gloves. “Are you?”

Bones slurped down his coffee. “Yeah. I worked up quite an appetite with that brunette.”

“Hmm.” He didn’t want to hear about it, but Bones was going to tell him anyway.

“Goddamn it, Jim! I'm telling you, sex on an ice bed, is...unbelievable. But you knew that already, you and Spock probably melted the damned thing already.”

“No.”

“No?” Bones mouth dropped open a moment, before he started in eating again. “Damn Jim, you don’t know what you’re missing. Oh my God, it was amazing. Mind blowing. I think it’s ruined me. There's something about making sweet love in sub zero temps thats just...wow. After a few minutes I didn’t even notice the freezing cold. Bunny was amazing in the sack, too.”

“Bunny? That's her name? Where is she?” Jim wondered. “Still in bed?”

“Oh no, she checked out this morning, bright and early. Last night was her final night here. I was glad to give her a going away gift.”

“Oh, I'll bet,” Jim said, rolling his eyes. "Hope you were wearing protection." He yawned into his fist. Bones copied him.

"Course I was, Jim. What the fuck do you think I am, some kind of a fucking idiot? Hey, where's Spock?"

“Ahhhh." Jim wrinkled up his face. "I left him in the suite.”

“Jim?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you gonna eat your croissant?”

“No, have it.”

Bones grabbed the roll and took a huge bite. “Mmm. Freshly baked,” he said with his mouth full. “I love this ice hotel. It's gorgeous. My suite is fantastic. The food is outstanding. I never want to leave. The women are absolutely--”

“Hmmm,” Jim said. He lowered his fist onto the table with a tap. “You know what, Bones? I think, Spock and I are gonna check out early. This morning.”

“What? No!” Bones protested. “You can’t do that.” Bones eyed him a moment. “Last night was that bad, huh?”

“Worse. It's too damned cold. We just laid there, nothing happened. This place isn’t anything close to romantic. Not at all.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s plenty romantic!”

“Not for Vulcans.”

“Oh...right.” Bones chewed on his thumb then took another huge bite of the croissant.

“I think I should have went with Dubai. Why didn’t I listen to you, Bones? Spock's like a cat. They prefer warmth.”

“Come on, Jim. It's just one more night. Just hang in there. Maybe he’ll come around.”

“Don’t think so. I screwed up big time, Bones.”

“Well, when he comes down to the lobby, I’ll shove him full of hot cocoa for medicinal purposes.”

“Didn’t work yesterday.”

“He didn’t drink enough of it. Only had about a mug's worth. Damned Vulcan tolerance levels, it’s like that with a sedative. I usually have to give him enough to knock out a human army, so it stands to reason he can handle quite a bit of an intoxicating beverage.”

“I’m not screwing him when he’s drunk.”

“I’m not gonna get him drunk, just loosened up a little bit, so he gets out of his Vulcan snit.”

"Bones." Jim stood up.

“Hey, where ya going?”

“I’m gonna go take a shower in that freezing bathroom, then pack up my gear. I’m sure Spock’s already ready to leave. Have your gear out in the lobby. Let Scotty know, we're leaving."

Bones grumbled.

Jim walked off. Bones began shouting something about the shower, but he didn’t stop to listen to the man.

*

Jim opened the door of the suite, went inside. Spock was no where to be found. "Spock?" he called out. "Hey, Spock?"

He went over to the bedroom. Spock wasn't there, either. Now where in the hell did he go? Dammit. Spock had probably already beamed back up to the ship. Jim flipped open his communicator.

_'Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep'._

That was Spock's communicator. Still in the suite. That meant either Spock was here, or...he'd taken off somewhere in the hotel to hide and didn't want to be disturbed. Based on recent events, the latter seemed most likely.

"Fine," Jim murmured. "You want to be like that? Fine. Maybe I'll beam back up to the ship."

After he took a shower, he would pack up his stuff and get out. Spock would notice his absence and also leave on his own. At this point they were barely speaking to each other. He'd apologize on board the Enterprise and forget this episode ever happened. Hopefully no irreparable damage had been done to their marriage. It was just a bit of a tiff, that's all. But what if it wasn't?

He shook himself free of those thoughts. But he was dammed if he was going to watch Bones screw half of the hotel and deal with the frosty reception from his own love of his life.

He wasn't looking forward to that freezing shower, that's for sure, but he needed to wash himself.

He stepped into the bathroom. He'd never noticed the shower stall before, but it appeared to be quite large. The frosted glass was not glass, it was ice. Fuck. It was going to be a miserable shower. But he'd hurry in, soap himself up, rinse off, and two minutes later he'd get the hell out.

He removed his clothing and opened up the shower stall. Odd. The water was already running. He couldn't hear it when the stall was closed. He shrugged. He made his way up to the water and hoped it was warm.

"I thought you would never arrive," Spock whispered behind him.

Jim jumped. "How? What are you...?"

"It is warm in here, is it not?" Spock said.

"Huh?" Jim, in his bewildered haze, suddenly realized that Spock's hat was off. And his parka, and the rest of his clothing, in fact Spock was stark naked and sporting a massive green erection. Jim grinned. He walked up, slid his hands around that trim waist and moved in for a kiss. 

Spock stopped him. "Jim, before we proceed, I would like to apologize for my appalling behavior."

"No, no, no," Jim said. "It's me who's been an ass, trying to force this icy, miserable shoreleave upon you. I'm sorry. I should never have brought you here. In fact, I have good news."

"What is that?"

"You and I are checking out this morning! Isn't that great?"

Spock shook his head. "Nonsense, Jim."

"But--"

"Shhhhhh." Spock grabbed Jim by the shoulders and claimed his mouth. After a moment of rather filthy reconnecting, Spock ended the kiss. He spun Jim around, pushing him against the ice blocks that for some reason did not feel cold at all. "I have been waiting for you all morning to 'step into my parlor'. I am beyond patience at this moment, Jim."

"The shower is your parlor?"

"Indeed, as soon as I discovered how warm it was inside the stall." Spock maneuvered Jim underneath the hot water, then grabbed the shower gel, lubed himself up. He got behind Jim, sliding one arm around his waist. Jim felt Spock's cock pressing at his entrance and then push in.

"Ohhh," Jim breathed out at the breach.

"Ohhh, is right. I missed you."

"I missed you, too. Thought we'd never fuck again."

Spock pumped into him with powerful strokes. All Jim could do was hang on for the ride, until he found himself quickly at the edge, then over it, spraying his cum all over the ice tiles. He felt the warm grip on his hips tighten. Spock let out a delightful little whimper.

"Oh yes, Spock!" Jim hissed. "Oh yes! Fuck me. Harder. Come on."

Spock gasped. Jim felt that warm seed spurting inside him.

*

McCoy scowled and glanced at the local time on his communicator. He'd been standing here with Scotty and their luggage for over an hour. They'd already checked out and were just waiting for Jim and Spock to get their asses down here. "Where in the blazes are they?" he grumbled.

He flipped open his communicator: "McCoy to Kirk."

The communicator beeped for several moments.

\--

_'Beep, beep. Beep, beep. Beep, beep!'_

Jim was on his back on the ice-bed. Spock was straddling his hips, riding his cock, wearing only his mittens in order to grab onto the headboard. "Oh...." Spock moaned out. "Ohhhhh."

_'Beep, beep. Beep, beep. Beep, beep.'_

Spock stopped his movement. "Perhaps you should answer that."

"Who the hell could that be?"

Without disengaging from Jim, Spock reached down, grabbed the communicator and handed it over.

\---

McCoy scowled, communicator open. "Where the fuck is he?"

Finally, Jim answered in a dozy voice: _"What?"_

"What do you mean, 'what'? The fuck's taking so long?"

_"Oh uh...we've uh... decided to to stay after all--in fact, how about we stay an entire week?"_

"Jim, why are you breathing so--? Well anyway... listen, there's a problem with that, Scotty and I already checked out of our suites! We thought you wanted to leave this morning!"

_"Oh...well that's a shame. Maybe you....uh...oh...can check back in. Jim...uh...out...."_

Bones scowled and snapped his communicator shut. "I should have known those two would make up. Assholes. Damned married couple always fucking or fighting. Well, Scotty. It looks like we're staying here a week. I don't mind, do you?"

"Ach, no. Got plenty of supplies."

They went back up to the front desk. The woman informed them that their reservations had been given away.

"Our suites... are gone?"

"I'm afraid so, Sir. My apologies."

"Well, what about a regular room?"

"There are none available, I really must apologize."

"Well. Aright. Thank you, Ma'am." They stepped away from the desk. "I'm gonna kill that bastard," McCoy muttered to Scotty.

"Aye."

"Now what the hell are we gonna do? Beam back up to the ship?"

Suddenly two women came up. One was a red head and the other brunette. Both McCoy and Scotty smiled at the two ladies as they walked past. The ladies smiled back. The women, pulling their suitcases, sauntered up to front desk.

"Hey Scotty," McCoy hissed. "Sounds like those two lovely ladies are checking into our suites."

"Aye."

Suddenly the women were standing right next to them. "Oh, hello," McCoy drawled out. "How do you do?"

"You boys checking in, too?"

McCoy blushed. "Well, uh, you see, we had a reservation and due to some snafu, they don't have a suite for us. So me and my friend here are homeless."

"Aye," Scotty said.

"Oh," the redhead said. "That's a shame." She smiled at Scotty as he looked deeply into her eyes.

The brunette smiled at McCoy. "Oh. I'm very sorry to hear that you don't have a room."

"Yeah," McCoy replied. "Maybe somebody would be willing to double up. Take pity on two lonely men."

The women smiled.

_________________________  
end

 

Illustration by tprillahfiction (hamnerd)   "It's Too Damned Cold"


End file.
